Long Motif Poems
Long Motif Poems. Below are the most popular long Motif by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Motif poems by poem length and keyword.
In diaphanous sapphire night,
the drizzle of argentine moon dust,
the existential epithet of
dulcet melodic descencion,
adorns the pearl-laced waves
of the rolling sensuous sea,
spread seamlessly before me,
beyond the baroque shore,
where I saunter with me
in the corridor of the musical mind,
and follow the tune of soulful symphony.
The rain-washed sparkling sky
spreads the seamless spectrum
of my opulent dreams,
weaved as the tapestry of fantasy
with the lattice of chromatic imagery,
the surreal strings design the splendor
of the charismatic rainbow motif,
arching over the halcyon horizon
that beckons me to the concert of being,
and feel fascinated the vibrato of life.
In the stalled turbid times,
defused in the miasma of despair,
I turn the dented emotive impulse
into lyrical crescendo of concerto.
On its sonorous whistling wings
I fly in the rhapsodic sky of sonata,
to the harmonic realm of afflatus,
and realize the nascent notion
that life is a song.
The moist meadow of the sanctuary of my heart
desiccates in desolation like a desert,
the dispersed clouds of parched passion
make my mirage mind a deceptive sky.
The halcyon horizon I call mine waits
for the argentine mesmeric moon to rise,
send from the fervent sparkling skyline
the sequins of your charisma
to swathe my shelter with shades of sapphire.
The surge of sequestered sandstorm drifts
the sands of my derelict desire away
from the shifting dunes of deprivation.
The refuge of oasis within me doesn’t remember
it was once an epitome of my longing.
My dreams dissolve in your visage,
paint panorama of passion on canvas of my essence,
spread emotive hues on your facade of fervor,
the flight of ecstasy takes me
where you are gone.
Away from the wilderness of my loneliness
in the far away fawn forest,
I wish you turn into an emerald tree.
In its soothing shade I’d like to repose,
hear the song of the lavender leaves,
rustling in the breeze with your charm.
In the template of my seclusion,
the transient display of the drifting dreams
turns into lilting lyric of million steps
I walk to reach you,
setting free the captive heart
that quivers like the wasteland willow.
As the motif of my resolute essence
repudiates the reprisal of catharsis,
at the edge of your serenading fading shadow
I sense in the haven of my heart
the cadence of silence.
The bouncing butterfly you are
to my unfurled eyes,
leave no enticing film of touch
on the flower I’ve bloomed.
As your motif of intrigue stripped,
spontaneous revelation unveils the heart
for a few transient alluring moments,
generates the current of passion
on which the shards of my yearning navigate
to the portal beneath your eyelids.
You don’t perceive they change colors of desire
until you morph the eyes into prism of ardor.
I patronize my dormant instinct,
enfolding the fixation of longing.
In the depth of my soul I make it tangible,
albeit an entranced fly I fly blind to your fire,
turn to ashes.
In the whirlwind of the turning time,
sweeping the dust of memory,
someday I’ll rise in your sky.
January 29, 2020
Contest : Eight Word Challenge 1, 2020
Sponsor : John Hamilton
A mirage-etched boulevard I paved
to the realm of futile triviality
along the contorted contours
of the disguised desire of the beloved
where the intrepid roses bloomed
amidst the spiculed cactus,
the scent took me to the oasis of reverie.
In the motif of the morphed image
the lanced landscape turned
into a golden garden of glory.
The fringe of flying clouds
captured the halcyon hues of the horizon’s pallet,
the beguiled breeze conducted
the captivating concerto of the night
for the ruby moon to rise.
Under the seamless sky of satin sheen
the reflection of the moon held you afloat
on the passion waves of the stardust surge,
enticing me by the sequins of your charisma.
“I filled the night's chalice with knots of desire”
as you came with the argentine flair
in the ardent aurora of mesmeric moonbeam,
lifted the shroud of secrecy,
entered my forlorn abode,
where I dreamed I was the full moon in your sky.
After the night melted into diaphanous dawn
I found “it’s raining roses and love riots”
in your garnet garden,
sparkling as rare crystalline ecstasy
blooming my feeling of lingering longing,
but “I learned how to live unkissed until”
I saw the patina of the unfurled roses
shimmer in your lilac lips,
fused on mine, seemed like the melody
of serenading diamond dew resonating
in the flushing meadow of my yearning heart.
Your amethyst temptation stoked flaming desire,
turning my craving into radiant ember of love.
I tasted the luscious lust of the first kiss
amorously carved by its fervent flare.
I was born on March fourth, 1983.
But, I believe I was born, to march forth.
What I mean is, I was born to never give up.
To never quit.
To keep trying.
To walk my own path.
To keep going, no matter how dark my days get.
To continue on, no matter how bleak my outlook is.
To keep my head up, even when others look down on me.
I am tough, I am strong, I am a survivor.
I always was, and I always will be.
I will never stop reaching for my dream.
I will never stop going forward,
even when my shoes have worn out.
Even when my socks have torn to shreds,
even when my feet are broken and bleeding.
Because, I was born on March fourth.
To march forth.
Written by: Kelly Deschler
Giorgio V.'s contest - "Impress Me With A Small Poem" - motif: epic
On the weary wings of winter the northern winds depart,
their harsh whisper in the frozen air
the frost-fastened mulberry trees hear,
“wait, you’ll listen the sweet music soon,
don’t despair, the serenading southern breeze
will embrace you with verdant melody”.
The misty mask melts, turning the sky into cobalt cauldron,
the ambrosia of resurgence drizzles the aura diaphanous air.
The gossamer clouds gorgeously embroidered
appear with the wispy ribbons of regal robe.
Lured by the shifting shapes of their soft shadow
the mulberry foliage begins to unfurl the malachite fresco.
The burgeoning branches flutter with emerald wings,
nascent leaves look up with budding fruits to the rising sun,
draping them with the patina of new verve rising high.
For the lofty trees the sprawling luxuriant life has begun,
as the lively boughs raise the copious canopy to the sky.
On the cadenced flow of the joyous zephyr
the berry fragrance finds the aromatic course,
trailed by the beguiled butterflies,
flittering in the rhythmic waves of jade symphony.
When the leaves offer the amorous cradle in sunburst morn,
the monarch butterflies make lilting aerial lattice,
entwined with the sailing sequins of the chromatic dawn dust,
they flitter in its cadence, searching for the larval host.
The heavenly beauty of the scene sublime unfolds
as the butterflies dance with ethereal exuberance.
When the rippling winds sing the moonshine song,
sparkling silver lines embroider dulcet design in drifting clouds,
reflected subtly in the mesmeric motif of the butterfly wings,
fluttering in the tempting tune of the mystique moondust melody,
the midnight hour contours the image of bliss with divine glow,
as the butterflies dance to the rapturous rhythm
of mulberry rhapsody in the garden of love.
In the passion sea of my yearning the bliss waves
swelled like swirling lattice of your sapphire smile.
With the mesmeric moonbeam motif of your charm,
its sparkle splashed on our entwined essence.
In your embrace my subtle senses delicately turned
into rapture rhythm of my heart, enchanted within,
set the lingering longing so long latent
to sail in the sensual stream of my ardent desire.
In the scintillating flow of the zooming zephyr,
as you drifted away unconcerned past me,
blowing a devastating storm of broken promises,
my fervor lay fragmented in the wreckage of ecstasy.
Unmet expectations damaged the dormant psyche,
futile promises smothered the rays of fading hope,
lacerating betrayal tore the trellis of my mangled mind.
My life was wrecked by your atrocious demeanor.
With the body and mind ravaged by the strike of severance
my life was no longer an epitome of charming concept,
for the piteous ruins of the shattered heart piled up
in silent pain at the fathomless depth of abysmal despair.
A weary traveler wandering in wasteland, I was adrift
on a futile journey to nowhere destined to end forlorn,
along the contours of convoluted life in winter night,
when all the promises my mind nurtured were broken.
Free from the captivity of depraved love,
my agonized heart pined to rejuvenate,
hoping to find the secret of solace for the soul,
waiting for the time to re-invent the self-worth.
I’d rise from the ruins of the shattered heart,
soar on ethereal air of yearning in your void firmament.
Before the pale dust of twilight effaces my fading time,
I’d fly for the final rest to the nest of broken promises.
The moist meadow of my heart
dried desolate like a desert.
The mist of parched passion
spread with mystique opacity
from the halcyon horizon that waited
for the southern wind to blow
from the fervent sparkling sky
with your sequined charisma,
draping the shades of blue within me.
If you’d turned into an emerald tree
in the far away fawn forest,
the baroque boughs would’ve reached out
to the seraphic sky of yearning.
In their soothing shade
I would’ve reposed for a while,
hear the song the leaves rustled
with the drops of the dancing rain.
In the titular template of loneliness,
the transient motif of dreams
the beginning engraved
in the million footsteps I etched for you,
tracing the course for the agonized heart
that quivered like the wilderness willow.
The configuration of the unyielding essence
repudiated the catharsis reprisal.
I found a place at the edge of your taciturn time,
sensed the sound of furtive silence.
As all the dreams blazed in an inferno,
I breathed the smoke of the ashen memory,
afloat quietly in the sky of nothingness.
In the space between the slices of my heart,
where the frail feelings got frozen,
the design of desolation intertwined
with the splinters of the icons of desire.
They flew away to the corral of anonymity
on the trajectory of covert longing,
lay within the poignant crypt as a secret kept.
Mystique mist shrouds the penultimate path
to the future, fading away in obscurity.
In twilight hour the sunset swansong resonates
the echoless tune of forlorn somber life,
silhouetted against the faint skyline of longing.
The threads of turmoil weave
the blue motif with sadness mold
in craving satiation, riding the sensuous storm
to the blank mindscape of frustrated desire,
once embedding the fervent fascination for repletion.
The shards of splintered hope adrift on buoyant flow
of cascading memories of the lively times
bring back the flavor of the old spices of life.
The remnant vibe of rejuvenation returns
within the sanguinity sphere of listless life.
Down the stairs turned to chiseled rocky rungs
the fluid elegance cascades like an ebullient rapid
primal grace of Eve glistens on the satin skin
tinged with the hues of primeval beauty bounty
sculpted in curvy contours of Michelangelo finesse
and charming patterns.
Amorous lustrous stream flowing in cleaved vale
carved between the ambrosial mounds
opens up on the vista of the ivory meadow
supple rhythm of scented jasmine allures
wafting on the canopy of the yonder thicket
and waiting to be adored.
The porcelain ballerina feet as flittering as
the swan en echelon making rhapsodic design
half-way on the staircase stuck motionless
a statue draped in symphony of au naturel motif
the moonbeam lattice covers her with silver screen
and with enigma ethereal.
September 30, 2021
Brian Strand's Contest A Strand (1044)